I Was On Facebook Chatting About The Ebola Scare

#Ebolapacolypse

Updated 10 years ago, October 7, 2014

As of this moment it is 2:52 AM, October 3, 2014. I just finished a cigarette and am working on a Miller Lite®. I’m noting these things for no particular reason other than to remind myself that just 11 or so hours ago I was on the bus late for work chuckling to myself about how awesome it’d be to post this for perpetuity on TC. Not that it’s particularly important; I’ve nothing of any real value to add to the media/internet frenzy about cases ( one) of the Ebola Hemorrhagic Fever appearing in my hometown of Dallas, Texas.

It feels like the only people excited about the prospect of the #Ebolapacolypse are my friend Thor Johnson and me. That being said, I also realize the gravity of the situation. Chances are the shit’s containable and will pass into the cooler-talk ether joining the Bird-Flu, Swine Flu, West Nile Virus, and Anthrax in the mail (among others). Whether rationally or irrationally, people are afraid, and though I’ve said horrible things suggesting killing the infected or hoping for martial law or for a world resembling my favorite dystopian flicks, I wouldn’t really wish that shit on any of us (especially me).

However, I don’t think I can speak for Thor Johnson (AKA Thorsten Jonsson, AKA Thorax Miller, BKA Thor Moore). Dude got so excited he started drawing crude sketches of people spewing blood and skeletal while he was at work. I suggested that his employer should make him their in-house artist, he said something about old ladies and obscenity, and I made reference to a sex scene in Like Water for Chocolate. Somehow the chat devolved further and we were doing things like this:

There was no segue to this; no decision made to come up with names for our joint porn venture or band, we were just riffing. And in the short time I’ve known Mr. Thorax Miller; he’s been more than adept at it. He’s also always the happiest drunk dude at art shows (even if they aren’t his).

We are seriously grown men.

I can’t believe I forgot 500 Days of Ebola! But look (!), Thorsten never texts and drives.

This isn’t even funny anymore—if ever it was. Now we’re only indulging our poor taste—or just mine.

For no apparent reason other than the song being stuck in my head (because it’s awesome), Aaliyah’s One in a Million crept into the muck of our free-associative (?) dick-swinging.